


Too Far

by ariapassionflower01



Series: Rebellion [2]
Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Dom/sub, Face Slapping, M/M, Non-Consensual Spanking, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-15 22:03:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1320787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariapassionflower01/pseuds/ariapassionflower01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was an insanely stupid idea to run. One way or another, I'm going to be dragged back home, whether I'm compliant or kicking and screaming. This has only been an avoidance of the inevitable and I'm only now coming to that conclusion... Tom's going to find me and he's going to hurt me good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Running

I'm panicked and scared, feeling like I'm going to be sick. There's a thousand butterflies swarming in my stomach and my heart is racing too fast. My legs feel like jelly when I push out of the cab and onto the sidewalk. I feel like they're all looking at me, like they know exactly who I am and why I'm standing here all alone on the curb.

“Hey, are you okay, kid?” The cabbie's voice calls to me from the front seat and I look back through the window.

“Yeah.” My voice is weak and I'm sure that I don't at all sound convincing. “Here.” I say, giving him the cab fare. “Thanks for your help.” I turn away before he can ask me any more questions and I hear him pull away.

Despite being one of the richest people in Germany and being one of the “beautiful people” of America, I feel destitute, handing over what little cash I actually carry. I left home with hardly anything in my pockets and I'm not even sure I have my ID or credit card. The only identification I have right now to the people on the street is the face of Tokio Hotel and I certainly don't want to be recognized right now. I want to disappear, and blend in, because I sure as hell don't want to be found.

I realize I'm looking too conspicuous standing on the corner with a blank look on my face and I step into the flow of foot traffic, hands shoved in my pockets, head down. I realize that my made up face and the intense wash of black and white dreadlocks over my back is far too recognizable but there's nothing to be done about that.

I didn't think about what I was going to do when I ran. I just did and now I'm in even more trouble than before. Reliving the argument that lead up to my wild dash for freedom, my stomach turns over and panic seizes my throat. I duck suddenly into a tiny coffee shop, gasping for air as I come to stand just inside the door way. I lean against the wall and lower my head to my hands. I moan aloud, because I know this is the worst mistake I have ever made.

_Just go back home now,_ The calm voice in my head tells me, logically,  _Explain why you panicked, take the punishment and get over it._ I know its the right thing to do, but now I'm in so deep that I can't imagine willingly going back now. It makes me sick just thinking about how bad it will be. 

I want to sink to the ground, but I keep myself on my feet. I can feel tears in my eyes and they're seeping out onto my palms. I wipe furiously at them, trying to keep myself together. I can't be drawing attention to myself. Tom probably already has security looking for me and I know he's furious. I shudder inside, thinking about it. On top of everything else, I have decided to resist punishment and he won't be happy when I see him again.

It was an insanely stupid idea to run. He's going to find me at some point, I know. He'd call the police if he had to. One way or another, I'm going to be dragged back home, whether I'm compliant or kicking and screaming. This has only been an avoidance of the inevitable and I'm only now coming to that conclusion as I stand in the coffee shop. Before, I was running on pure adrenaline and fear, a primal instinct to protect myself, but its all for naught. Tom's going to find me and he's going to hurt me good.

I make a dash for a nearby trash can as I feel my breakfast coming up. Last night's alcohol is mixed in there somewhere and I feel mortified as my stomach wrenches everything out. I'm shaking and gripping the edges of the trashcan so hard that it hurts. My dreadlocks are swinging in my face and this time, Tom isn't there to hold them back. The very thought makes me begin to sob in between heaves and I can feel the tears trickling down my cheeks.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” A voice to my right alerts me, but I can't stop to look at her until I sink to the ground, exhausted. I wipe at my mouth, hoping I don't have puke in my hair. I've never felt so humiliated in my life as I glance over to see a crowd of employees and customers staring at me.

“Holy shit.” A guy to the left mutters.

“Are you okay?” The girl who first asks the question rushes over to me. She's an employee and I don't know if she recognizes me or not. All I can think is that this can't get back to Bild or  _anyone_ for that matter.

“I'm fine.” I choke, my voice rough and weak.

“Let me get you some water.” She said, rushing back towards the kitchen. When she returns, I gratefully take the paper cup and lift it with shaking hands to my quavering lips. I drink it down, trying to gain my composure.

She kneels next to me and she's looking at me hard. I know she knows me now and I swallow hard. “Please.” I whisper. “I just need a moment.”

She nods slowly before looking over her shoulder. “It's okay, everybody. We're sorry for the interruption.”

The customers mumble to each other but begin to move away, leaving or returning to the cash register.

“Thank you.” I whisper.

“So...” She asked, narrowing her eyes. “What is Bill Kaulitz doing throwing up at a coffee shop?”

I shake my head slowly. “I'm sorry. I can't answer that question. Its a long story.” I lift my head, looking at her intensely. “I hope you're not going to repeat this anywhere.”

She bites at her lower lip and I lower my voice again, “Please, I'm begging you.”

Our conversation is cut off by the front door opening and I glance over. Panic surges through me again when I see that its Saki, our head of security for years. He finds me immediately and I know its over.

He doesn't make a scene, but I can tell he's unhappy. He walks over to me briskly and grabs me by the arm to haul me to my feet. I let him drag me up and when he releases me I just look at the ground quietly.

“Tom is in the car.” He says quietly. “I'm going to talk to this nice young lady. Do you need an escort out?” His tone is steely and I flinch.

“No.” I whisper hoarsely.

He turns away and I walk slowly towards the door. Its the walk of shame now and if I hadn't already been sick, I might've thrown up on the sidewalk. I trudge the short way across the sidewalk, my stomach flipping over. My hands are freezing cold despite the line of sweat across my back and I bite my lip, holding back tears. I make it to the car and open the back door. I can see Tom's legs, one strong, beautiful hand resting on his thigh. He's tapping his fingers and I swallow. I know what those hands can do.

I slip into the seat and pull the door shut. The inside of the car is quiet, cool, and dark from the heavily tinted windows.

There's dead silence for almost a minute and I can barely look over at him. I look down at my hands, pick at my acrylics, try to see through a sheen of tears.

“What were you thinking?” Tom's voice breaks the silence and I feel my face twist further with emotion.

“I don't know.” I whisper.

Tom sighs heavily. “You know, you just made this ten times worse.”

I wipe quickly at my cheeks, trying to dash away tears, destroy the evidence of my weakness. I was all vim and vinegar during the fight, but now I just really don't want to be punished.

“Where's the saucy retort?” Tom snaps suddenly and I glance over at him to see his typically light brown eyes flashing with anger. I draw back, feeling small in the face of his wrath.

“First you go off last night,” Tom states, holding up a finger, “Then, you don't come home until morning,” A second finger goes up, but he continues, “Then you have the gall to stand there and tell me you don't deserve a damn thing for that kind of behavior.” He lifts a third fingers and then finally a fourth as his voice rises, “And  _now,_ you do  _this_ . I should turn you over my fucking knee right here.” He stabs a finger at the leather upholstery and I shrink even further down in my seat, fresh tears welling in my eyes. 

“I'm sorry.” I burst out, but he smacks me suddenly, hard on the mouth. I cry out, lifting a hand to the stinging flesh.

“Don't speak.” He bellows. “I have  _had_ it with your fucking mouth today.”

I want to apologize again, but it only seems to be riling him up and I just cover my face in my hands again, sobbing.

Tom draws in a heavy breath and runs a hand over his mouth before he states, “Saki is coming back. Get yourself together.”

I want to scream that I can't when he's yelling at me and smacking me but I just pull my knees up against my chest and cradle my face in my arms.

When Saki gets in the car, his face is stony and he pulls away from the curb in silence. The rest of the ride is much of the same, except for my soft sniffles and it seems like an eternity before the car comes to a stop. When I lift my head, I see our house and I know its judgment day. I'm past the fighting and the running and I follow Tom as he pushes the door open and storms up the driveway.

When we get inside, he slams the door shut and thrusts a hand towards the stairs, “Get the fuck upstairs.”

I go quickly because there would be nothing worse than making Tom anymore angry than he already is right now. I go directly to my room and wait there, my stomach swimming, until he steps in behind me. He shut the door firmly and his expression his dark, his brows drawn, his lips set in a line, his jaw taut.

He steps forward and I take a step back.

“I was only going to give you a few.” He says, one hand falling to his belt buckle. The tiny action makes my stomach swirl and I feel a whimper pass my lips. “I was angry and worried when you were gone last night, but...” He shakes his head, “Nothing compares to how mad I am right now.”

I stumble back and sink to the edge of the bed, because those words are my Fate, the very guillotine falling on my neck. I know I'm in for it and there's no mercy to be found now. I don't have any excuses or reasons for him to change his mind.

“Do you understand what you did, Bill?” He asked, yanking his belt open with a firm tug. A panicky sensations wells in my stomach but I can't move. “Not only did you defy me, but you ran off by yourself. You put yourself in danger. What if someone had recognized you? What if that little incident gets in the news?”

I shake my head, although I'm not really denying everything that he's said. I just don't want it. I don't want the firey lick of belt across my backside. I don't want the pain I'll have to endure afterwards, or the sting of Tom's disappointment.

“Get up.” Tom orders and a whine slides from my lips.

“Tom, please...” I shake my head, flinging dreadlocks across my face. “Please...”

“You're not getting out this.” Tom says, advancing on me as he pulls his belt from the loops.

“Please,” I cry, “Please, don't make me stand up.”

“No.” Tom snaps. “You are going to stand up and take this on your feet.” He grabs my arm and pulls me up, his fingers digging into the flesh of my upper arm, biting muscle and bone beneath. I cry out as he forces me around and bends me over the bed. I hold myself up with quivering arms and I let my head drop, my hair falling around me face like curtain. I'm crying again, great heaving sobs that choke me, as he yanks my pants and boxers down. He grasps me by the back of the shirt and swings the belt. I arch forward, away from the biting strap as he lays down the first strike. It hurts so fucking bad, but he drags me back, lashing me again. I let out a scream of pained rage and I fall to my elbows, my hands clawing at the sheets.

“Stand up!” Tom demands, pulling me up by shirt.

“No, no...” I'm moaning, even as I push myself back up.

He hits me again and I can't help but jerk away. My flesh is on fire, my entire body throbbing with pain. He's only punished me three times but it hurts so terribly. I know he's putting the entire strength of his firm, muscled arm behind the strikes and I don't know how many I'll have to endure. 

He belts me a fourth time, letting the long reaching length of the leather strike across my buttocks and thighs. I sob in pain, crying so hard that my chest is convulsing and saliva is wetting my lips and chin. When he hits me again, I sink to the bed, crying and tearing at the sheets. I get my knees on the bed and I thrash, trying to crawl away from the painful strikes.

“Get back here.” Tom snarls, pouncing onto the bed after me. He grabs my by the hair and I cry out as my scalp burns. Tom towers over me, one strong hand fisted in my hair, the other gripping the belt. “I told you to fucking stand up and take this.” He gives me a shake.

“I... I can't...” I cry, sucking in panicked breaths around my words.

“Fine. You want it like this?” He lets go over my hair but in the next instant his knee is planted on my back, holding me down as he swings the belt. I sob, kicking with my feet, pounding with my fists, just trying to escape the terrible punishment. He doesn't bother to stop my fighting. He just spanks me again and again, laying out welts across my buttocks and thighs until I can't take it anymore. I buck beneath his knee, forcing him off of me. I scramble onto my back as he falls back. He catches himself and lunges after me, but I push myself back, away from his hand.

“I hate you!” I scream out the words in a high pitched, wounded tone and it stops him cold for a moment. Then, suddenly his hand comes out of nowhere, smacking harshly across my left cheek. The force of the blow sends my head spinning and I fall back on the sheets, pain singing across my entire face. I clasp my swollen cheek in one hand, staring up at him in shock.

“You don't have the right to say that.” He says in a low tone, pointing a finger in my face. Before I can contemplate the meaning of that, he stands from the bed and shoves the belt back through the loops. I can see the shake in his hands and I know I went too far.

He storms towards the door, and yanks it open forcefully. He pauses to say, “I don't want to fucking see your face outside of this room.” With that, he slams the door behind me, leaving me to my own lingering sobs of pain and regret.


	2. Forgive Me

This is worse than any fight we've ever had, any time that I've ever defied him.

My bathroom is adjoined to my room and when I go in to relieve myself, my cheek is swollen up and bruised. My ass is in the same condition and I rifle through the cabinets trying to find pain reliever. I find a bottle that's outdated by a few months, but I take it anyway, slamming back three, then four, hoping that it will make the pain stop. I know, however, that nothing in this world will make my heart stop hurting.

I'm rebellious a lot of the time. I have an authority problem that Tom's been trying to break me of for years. He's the only person that I've ever even thought about obeying and even then, I have trouble letting go of my pride and independence. Last night's incident wasn't much out of the norm for us and typically he would've punished me, scolded me, and moved on. I, however, had my heart set on getting out of that spanking. It was ridiculous to think that I could've run far enough away for Tom not to find me. Looking back on it now, I know it was stupid, and I should've never done it. I made it so much worse than it had to be, and now I've done it again.

What I said to Tom was untrue and hurtful. We both know that, but I said it and he's not going to let it go.

With a sigh I turn away from the mirror, because I know the reflection will just depress me. Returning to my room, I lie down on my stomach and stare at the wall.

My phone had disappeared and I know Tom has it. He has my make up too since the shelves in my bathroom have been cleared. My entertainment system is unplugged, a clear command to leave it that way. I want to scream in rage when I notice my CD collection is missing as well. I don't even bother searching for my car keys because I know he'll have confiscated those as well. He's taken everything I treasure from me, most importantly my freedom, but I'm not really in a position to complain, especially after what I said.

I don't expect him to return to check on me as he typically does. Most of the time, he brings me pain reliever, talks to me. If I'm good and apologize, they'll be cuddling and sex, but this time I'm not sure what to expect. The more I think about it, the more I am horrified by the words that came out of my mouth. Tom always tells me that my mouth is going to get me in real trouble someday, and now I've done it.

I have hours to stare at the wall and I hate nothing more than being bored, not to mention hungry. I threw up my breakfast and all I had last night was a dozen or more shots.

Its leaning towards seven o' clock when my doorknob turns. I sit up quickly on the bed, waiting anxiously before Tom comes to stand in the door. He leans against the doorway for a moment, his fingers tucked in his pockets. His dark eyes are on me, watching me intensely. I want to say something to break the silence, but I can't. At last, Tom sighs, “I suppose you're hungry.” He says,his voice soft and low.

I nod slowly, trying not to look like an eager puppy, although at this point I would probably crawl on my hands and knees after him wherever he went.

He bites at his lower lip, toying with the piercing. “Come down to the table.” He says at last, before turns quickly and walks towards the stairs.

I stumble off the bed, limping after him. The pain is dull right now but I can hardly sit down and I don't really want to think about how the hard, wooden chairs at the table are going to feel like. I console myself over the fact that he's being nice enough to let me out of my room.

I find Tom in the kitchen, setting plates at our places. My stomach rumbles and go quickly to the table. I lower myself gingerly to the chair, wincing. It fucking hurts but I'm not going to complain. Not now.

Tom sits down across from me as I eagerly begin to shove the food down. I can practically feeling it digesting as it goes down and I'm about halfway through when I notice that Tom isn't eating. He's just sitting there, his hands laying limply on the table at either side of the plate. He's staring sightlessly at the table and I immediately lose my appetite. I lower my fork and swallow what's left in my mouth.

“Are you going to eat?” I asked quietly, my voice loud in the silence of the kitchen.

Tom's features harden for an instant, his brows drawing together, his lips firming. At last, he looks up at me and I'm shocked to see tears glistening his eyes.

“Tom...” I begin. My heart knocks wildly in my chest, and I know without asking that this is about what I said. I hardly ever see my brother cry and to know that I caused it sends a knife right through my heart.

Tom draws in a deep breath, blinking quickly, before he clears his throat. “It really hurts, Bill.” he says at last, his voice low. “A hell of a lot more than your whipped ass right now.”

I flinch, because I know its true. I bite my lower lip, feeling my own tears sting my eyes. I can't push them back as well as Tom and my voice comes out thick and quavering, “I didn't mean it.”

Tom's jaw clenches for a moment and he nods slowly, pursing his lips. “Maybe I was too hard on you,” He begins, his eyes quite not meeting mine, “Maybe I should've waited, taken a moment to calm down, but...” His voice fades once more and he looks down. His hands fist on the table and it hurts me to see him holding onto his composure by threads. My strong Tom...

“I'm sorry.” I whisper and he has to know that I mean it. “I'm so... so sorry...”

“For what?” His voice comes out steely and I look up, wide-eyed.

“For... for everything!” I cry, spreading my hands.

“Everything.” He nods, his eyes flashing, nostrils flaring, “You can't even say it, goddamnit?” He smacks a hand down loudly on the table, causing me to flinch, before he rises from the table and paces away.

“Okay, I'm sorry for going out last night! I'm sorry for not coming back! I'm sorry for running!” I jump up from the table, limping towards him. “And I'm sorry for saying I hate you!”

He stands with his back to me and I place my hands on the strong expanse of shoulders. He tenses beneath my touch but I slide my hands down his back and then wind my arms around him. Pressing my cheek against his shoulder, I hug him close, “I'm sorry.” I repeat. “I didn't mean it. Please, forgive me, please.”

He stands stiffly in my arms for a moment before he lifts a hand and places it over mine. “You just don't know..” His voice cracks and he clears his throat again, “You don't know what that felt like.”

I hug him tighter, tears throbbing in my eyes. “I'm so sorry,” I slide my arms away and pull him around to face me. “Please, I'll do whatever you want.” I whisper, grabbing his hands and staring down at the likeness of his and mine, the stark contrast, “I'll stand up.” I whisper in a quivering tone. “I'll stand there as long you want.. just, please... forgive me.”

Tom's fingers squeeze around mine and he shakes his head. “No, I'm afraid I've punished you enough.” He lifts a hand and brushes his fingers over my bruised cheek. He makes a disgusted noise in his throat and I lift my eyes to his.

“I kind of deserved that one.” I whisper.

“No.” Tom closes his eyes for a minute, and shakes his head once more. “No one deserves to be smacked around, least of all you.”

He draws me closer and I sink into his embrace. I didn't think I would be feeling this for awhile and its like heaven. I snuggle into his neck, drawing in his scent. His hand strokes over my hair and I press my face fully into his neck. I want to cry again, out of joy that he would accept me back so easily after all the things I do. Its a wonder he still puts up with my being so stubborn and hard to deal with.

He presses a kiss against my hair, then my ear, petting dreadlocks back to find flesh. I turn my face towards him, seeking deeper intimacy. He responds, crushing his mouth against mine. I go slack against him, parting my lips to allow his tongue to trace over my teeth before darting inside. His hot, slick tongue quests inside my mouth, lapping over my palate, stroking over my tongue. He toys with the barbell of my piercing and I arch against him. My hands climb over his chest, latching on to his shirt. I want him closer, although there's no space left between us.

He cradles the back of my head while his other hand strokes over my back, drawing up the edge of my shirt until his fingers are caressing bare flesh. A tingle washes over my spine and I moan against his mouth.

When he pulls back, I'm quivering, my body already throbbing for him. My lips are swollen with his kisses and I want him to make the rest of me feel the same.

“Tell me one more time its not true.” He whispers.

“Its not true.” I return, vehemently. “I love you.. more than anything.”

He nods, “Good. Now I'm taking you to bed.”

I swallow hard, my heart fluttering. “Yes, please.”

He turns and drags me after him by the hand. I follow willingly as he makes his way determinedly up the stairs. He goes to his bedroom and I can't wait to fall onto those soft, sweet-smelling sheets. He tugs me in front of him and urges me back onto the bed. I lie back, stretching my arms above my head. His eyes flash with desire and he climbs on after me, dragging my shirt off over my head. He tosses the material aside and slides his hands back down my chest, his palms rubbing over my nipples. I tilt my head back with a moan, arching my back. He doesn't linger, however, and moves on quickly to my pants. He pulls them and my boxers down slowly, carefully avoiding chafing my bruised and welted ass. He strips me down to my skin and by the time I'm naked, I'm panting and aroused, ready for him to take me.

Above me, Tom sits back and tosses his own shirt off, baring the toned, golden plane of his chest and stomach.

“Yes...” I whisper, reaching out a hand. I want to touch him, feel him.

He lowers a hand to his pants and tears them open. His cock is already pressing up against his boxers and I sit up, my hands pulling at his boxers. I get him out, my hands surrounding his erection. He moans quietly and I lower my mouth to him, sucking him down immediately.

“Oh...” He groans once more, his hand immediately clasping my head. He laces his fingers around dreadlocks and pulls me closer, dragging my mouth up and down his cock. He's hard and thick against my tongue, tasting of pre-cum and his own deliciousness. I take him in, time after time, eager for it every time he slides out.

“Bill, oh...” He whispers, his fingers gripping my hair harder. “That's... that's enough.”

I pull back enough to look up at him and shake my head. I want him in my mouth. I want him to come down my throat.

He moans as I take him back in, and despite his protests, his hips begin to rock steadily against my mouth. I grip his hips, then his ass, pulling him close against me. I fondle the taut, rounded flesh as I suckle him and he shudders. I drag my mouth back, licking around the head, using my tongue stud to tease at the tiny, leaking crevice.

“Bill...” He cries out, his fingers clenching in my hair.

I suck him back in, only the tip at first, before I let him slide all the way to the back of my throat. I drag my tongue ring all the way up the underside, pulling another shiver out of him before I begin to work my mouth around him. I bob my head back and forth, turning my head to the side to get a glance up at his expression. His eyes are half-lidded, his mouth slack in pleasure. When I smile, his cockhead slips into the pocket of my cheek and I rub him there until he looks down at me.

“ _Oh mein Gott_ ,” He whisper, his brows furrowing as he cups my cheek, full of his cock. “Stop.” He rasps, beginning to pull his hips back. I grab onto his ass, my nails biting into flesh, as I attempt to keep him in my mouth. “Goddamnit, Bill,” Despite his words, his voice his quavering on the edge of weakness and desire and I suck him slowly back into my mouth. I dip my hand down between his legs, palming his heavy testicles. His thighs squeeze on either side of my hand as I begin to stroke him there, teasing my middle finger up behind them. He sucks in a quick breath, letting it out with a moan, “Bill, stop.” I ignore him, sucking him that much harder for all his protesting. He quivers against me, his words dying into nothing as I begin a steadier rhythm, one that sure to make him come. I keep a hand at his testicles, stroking and squeezing softly while I let my mouth do the aggressive work.

He is grasping at my hair by the end, thrusting and growling his resistance as he ravels apart in my grasp. “No, nnngg, Bill.. fuck...” He loses ability to form sentences as I feel him tense. Cum jets across my tongue and I draw back, swallowing it down hungry laps and sucks as he spills all he has onto my tongue in thick, wet streams that seem to never end.

At last, he sinks back, breathing hard. His broad chest in heaving, lined with sweat already. He looks up at me and I lick my lips, dashing away the last of the cum.

“On your stomach.” He says, his voice is husky, brooking no argument.

My insides clench giddily and I quickly do as I'm told. I arch my butt up towards him, spreading my knees in a wide stance to offer myself to him.

I hear the bed creak and he goes to the bedside table where I know the lube is. My heart rate shifts into high gear and I moan, squirming despite the fact that he hasn't even touched me yet.

He climbs back on behind me and I hear the sound of the cap opening. In the next instant, he's palming one buttock to spread me and I ignore the hint of pain that goes through me with his strong grasp. His fingers dip down between my buttocks, swiping at my taut entrance. I moan, arching myself more sharply against the sheets. It feels good, really damn good. He rubs around my little hole before one single finger probes directly at it. I relax myself and let out a low sound of pleasure as his finger sinks into me. He pumps it in slowly, but the lube is thick and abundant, allowing his finger to slide in to the hilt on the first thrust. He doesn't waste any time in adding a second finger and the two of them stroke inside me. I gasp in pleasure as he finds me prostate. He fingers the little bud of sensitive flesh and I can't help but twist in pleasure. He grabs my hips and pulls me back and I rise up on my hands and knees, my buttocks clenching around his fingers. I'm moaning now, in a consistent stream of pleasured sounds as he spears his fingers into me again and I again. I thrust down on his hand until I'm almost sitting back on my haunches, grinding down on his fingers. He wraps and arm around my waist, pulling my closer as he gets a third finger up my ass.

“Fuck.. oooh, Tom...” I moan.

His mouth is pressed against my shoulder and kisses me wetly with an open mouth, trailing them up my neck. He nips at my earlobe before his tongue slides out. My moans rise on a higher note as he tongues the shell of my ear before dipping inside. Its so wet and hot and I can hardly stand the sensation.

“Tom.. Tom..” I pant, “Please... fuck me...”

“You not in a position to demand anything, Bibi.” He says huskily in my ear and its sends shiver down my spine. I can't do anything except keep moaning as he fingers and licks me.

He strokes his fingers deep, toying with my prostate until I want to cry. Its so much, its almost too much, but I need more. I need his cock buried deep inside me, pleasuring me until we both come.

“Tom, please...” I'm begging now and I can hardly keep my head up.

“You want my cock?” He asks.

“Yes...” I moan before letting out a low moan as his fingers press deep inside me.

“You're gonna get it.” He promises. “Right here.” His fingers thrill up inside me.

“Oh...” I whisper in a quavering, unsteady tone.

“You're gonna get it good... deep... long... hard...” He thrusts his fingers into me with each description and my stomach is doing somersaults.

“Yes, please...” I moan, unable to control my begging.

At last, he pulls his fingers back and I sink back down on the bed, collapsing on my stomach, my ass still lifted.

He grabs the lube again I whimper. I want him so badly. I can hardly wait for that big, hard cock to be inside me.

He takes his time stroking himself with the lube and I whine impatiently. He gives my thigh a smack, saying in a low tone, “Stop that.”

I quiet myself, pressing my lips together to stop any further sounds.

At last, he grabs my hips and presses up behind me. His cockhead rubs against my entrance, hot, thick, and wet and I squirm back against him. At last, he presses forward and I let out a moan as he fills me. Even when I'm gaping open for him, he still stretches me and it feels wonderful. I press my face into the mattress as he sinks fully into me on the first thrust. A dull ache goes through me before the pleasure swallows me up.

He begins thrusting, slowly at first, going from tip to base each time. Its so long and deep, so intense that I can hardly breathe or moan. I'm frozen against the sheets as he grinds down into me deliberately over and over. He angles his hips, getting straight to my prostate. A gasp hitches in my throat, but I can hardly do more than that as he begins to move faster.

His hips start smacking up against my battered ass but I can barely feel the pain. All I can feel is him moving inside me, deep and so good.

I don't bother to hold out because I want the pleasure. I wanted it minutes ago when we were standing in the kitchen.

All thoughts of rebellion and anger are gone now and I don't know how I ever thought that I could make it through a day without him, or even a night. I want him, desire him, _need_ him so deeply, so intimately. There's no other connection I hold so dear, no intimacy that I cherish so much. It just me and my Tom now and that's what I really need to bring me back from my waywardness.

He's riding up against my prostate so good, dragging his hard cock over the aching, screaming flesh over and over and I know I'm done. When his hand slides from my cock to my hip, I arch into the circle of his fingers. He pumps me quickly, tugging me downwards each time he slams into me, causing a wave of pleasure to rise up between those two driving forces. I barrel towards the pleasure, my mind chanting one word over and over again, _Tom, Tom, Tom..._

I channel all of my energy and concentration into this one goal – of us coming together – until I explode into orgasm. The pleasure burns quicker than a wildfire across my senses, and leaves me wrecked and destroyed in its wake. I come across the sheets, spreading the expression of my pleasure in thick, wet gushes. I'm bucking back against Tom, impaling myself on his hard cock over and over even as I descend from the peak of my pleasure.

He continues to thrust into me, hammering my already pleasured body. My sensitive body twitches each time, but I can't complain. It still feels good and I wouldn't protest even if he decided to fuck me all night. We're back in harmony and that's what I wanted so much.

Tom rocks into me, his thrusts slowing once more as he works himself to orgasm again. I clench around him, squeezing him with each entrance until at last he too loses himself. Its beautiful, listening to Tom come, and I close my eyes, relishing his pleasured moans and groans, then the wash of his cum inside me. His grasps at me, repeating my name until at last, he slips out of me. He sinks down against my back, his head lowering to press heavy kisses against one ass cheek. He soothes the aching flesh with moist kisses and I sigh.

“Tomi...” I murmur.

“Hmm...”

“Love you.”

“Love you too, Bibi.”

Its more than I could ask for and my heart squeezes because it will always be true, no matter what I do.

We fall asleep like that and in the back of my mind I know my hurting ass is still a discomfort, but I can't care anymore. My Tomi loves me and that's enough to soothe the ache.


End file.
